Springfield daily republic. [volume] (Springfield, O. [Ohio]) 1887-1888, 1887-09-12
MONTENEGRO REVENGE

vengeance is sweet!
Dragho! Dragho Stitch. where is he
now' He who was blest with wife and
child and wealth; whose fiocks Of sheep
with twisted horns roamed the wales Of
Montenegro. And where, too. is Arnold
Mienesky, for whom, in vast plantations,
the plum trees We're bearing fruit 10 en-
rich his Golfers. and whose white mulber
ries were thick in foliage Listen. II is
a casino at Xalassi Mali and Dragho and
Arnold are quarreling hotly. Word leads
to words. and rage mounts high in both
their breasts All, hold your breath,
What deed is this, Arnold draws his
dagger and Dragho, smitten, falls TO the
earth murmuring Vengeance.
Sweet is vengeance to the heart of a
Montenegrin!
And now who is this who comes, weep
ing. to claim the deads Jane-Jane
Stitch, the widow. And the neighbors
lift the body in their arms and carry him
where the fire is smoldering upon his
own hearth and lay him on the mat,
where the dying flames send strange
glow upon the pallid cheek and light up
his wide open eyes. What is the meaning
of that significant gaze from those star
holy water To bless the dead is strangely
troubled Only Jane understands, and
when they have placed beside him his
weapons and his pipe, she goes forth 10
seek the Sar,lar The hour glass marks 4
O'Clock
Behold, it is the widow who enters the
house of the Sardar. She speaks: Hear
me, oh friend, My son is young. An ear
-. l.; la, l.
hand can hold. and | haze no brothers
You are rich in brothers, and four sons
who bear your name are of an age To
carry arms. You We're Dragho's friend,
punish his murderer" And Jane falls
upon her knees at the Sardar's feet. He
fixes his gaze upon her and replies:
"But, look you, DraGho Stitch has been
no more my friend since last years Christ
mas feast WAS held. when. rich in flocks,
he refused Ia give me four sheepskins to
Ciuthe my four brave sons. But you-you
are fair and comely-my sons and will
search the country for the murderer, and
then you shall give yourself as wife tn
the Sardar." James eyes blaze with fury,
and she departs All night long Jane is
weeping over the body of her lost hus-
band, and Dragho gazes steadfastly be-
fore him with ever open eyes.
Sweet is vengeance to the heart of a
Montenegrn!
The skies are bright with the light Of
another day. Far and near hurries the
tortured widow. Among the friends of
Dragho she looks in vain for one who will
arm himself and seek the fugitive. With
one accord they answer, "Ah, but Arnold,
too. has always been our good friend. -
And then, with despair in her soul, Jane
turns her steps toward the house of the
Sartar 1T is WE'LL accept the COM
pact"
The eyes of the old Sardar flash beneath
their hoary brows; he rubs his wrinkled
palms together in satisfaction. And
Jane. once more is she alone In her
widowed home; once more she weeps
over her dead; then bending low, she
whispers in his ear, aid 10! the open eyes
close in quiet rest and Jane weeps on, and
the hour glass marks 4 O'Clock.
"Awake-hasten, my sons-let MS pre-
pare powder and hall and rations for the
days we shall wander far from our home.
Where are the hunting knives, Tighten
your belts that the gurrine may closely
protect your chests; bring forth the deer
skin robes, that the dews and showers of
night may not destroy our arms and our
stores. Arnold Mienesky has flown TO the
mountain heights. and We 60 to take his
life for is il not he who has killed Dragho,
our dearest friend''
Skillfnl is he and wary-the old sardar,
and soon the fugitive shall feel the dan
ger that is near him. The sardar dis
covers his track. and on the first day they
meet one Of the four brave sons falls
dead-Rnd when the second day breaks,
behold another son is slain. The sardar
hesitates and questions his course. Ar
nrid, the murderer, bethinks him IL 1t
" ,uld not he well to surrender. The
rriest seeks the widow and urges recon-
'fiiation. With fury and passionate
words she refuses. and Us she speaks the
sand falls and the glass marks O'Clock.
Sweet is vengeance to the heart Of q
Montenegrin.
'.She refuses in wrath" is whispered
through the streets Of Xalassi Mali-but
the people, still hoping, send TO the lord
bishop a hundred seIuius-the price Of a
head. With the lord bishop rests the
charge Of calling tribunal of reconcilia-
ton. In the great church all is prepared
for the mass of peace. Ring out, o bells,
for the blessed mass Of reconciliation, and
ring for the twelve young mothers who
come, carrying their babes in their arms,
to knock at the widows door. "Jane,
Jane, open the door TO us-we bring gold
and 'broidered kerchiefs. But no re-
sponse comes from that close fastened
door.
''Jane, our good neighbor Jane, in the
the name Of our children We ask forgive
mall Atpr
Malice there was none II was the dagger
which slew Dragho. The dagger alone is
guilty-Only listen, the priest will come
to shatter it and to pronounce it accursed.
Open the door, Jane, open to us" But
Jane Stitch is silent and relentless. She
has sworn an oath TO her dead, and woe
befall him who breaks his oath
Sweet is vengeance To the heart of a
Montenegrin!
Dragho's murderer wanders once more
through the forests depths. This time.
supported by his two brothers and by the
two sons whom death has not stolen
away, the aged sardar again essays the
capture. Fear seizes upon Arnold; to fly
or to search place Of hiding, in both
turks danger. Enveloped by the dark
shades of night. wild beasts beset his way,
anu MS DTtlst Is HiIti with terrOr-hiS
days are days of hurrying, fearful flight
from his memories The aged sartlar
sounds note Of triumph! Arnold aban-
dons his defense. He surrenders-he is
the sardar's captive. And the vision
arises before the Sardar of Jane-the fair
widow waiting for him in her lonely home.
Aud now behold the victorious procession
that enters Xalassi-M Mali. Men, women,
and the children in the streets, follow in
the train Of the Sardar and his two brave
sons, the prisoner Arnold Mienesky in
their midst.
From afar the drone of the pipes and
the noise Of many feet reaches Jane, and
sends thrill to her heart as she reads in
the din the announcement that the sartlar
has returned. No time for thought. She
opens her Golfers and takes out the rich
marriage robe which has lain untouched
since the joyful day that saw her Dragho's
bride Its folds shake out the scents Of
lavender and asperule. How beautiful
she is in this bright garb Her fingers
sparkle with gems, and jewels shine in her